Everything white stone gives off blue, drawing transience. And the bridge, born many years ago, connects the eras. Immeasurably the sky and those feelings with which you stand on it and peer at the chains of mountains around, that a corner of paradise is hidden from all the troubles of the world. The yolk in the middle is a bullring that dances to this day with bullfighters stabbing swords. One can read a hundred thousand words about Ronda on paper, but never taste all the charms of the centuries that openly laid out all their stories here under a peaceful sky. And wherever you are, if you are at Puente Nuevo at least once, you will remember this view and the wind of good sunbeams caressing your Spain ...
Canvas. Oil. 40x60 February 2023
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Not every meaning finds instant echoes in the storehouse of the soul, but everyone is given the opportunity to touch the string. The only question is who is tearing and who is trying to barely touch ?! Everything has its time and result ...